grass tussocks here and there, neglected fields containing clumps of stunted blackthorn bushes and brambles, dingles furnished with little alder bushes, and dry wastes of low cover. In places of this kind it nests, and may be heard singing during the season, the favourite haunt being round Llangorse Lake, where it may be termed common. I first heard the unmistakable little trill of this bird when I came to live here fifteen years ago, and found the first nest on May 29th, 1886. It was placed in a tuft of rushes, and contained five fresh eggs, two of which, with the nest, are now in the Natural History Museum, South Kensington. I have since found five more nests. Eggs from three sets in my possession are mostly zoned; one clutch taken on June 9th, 1893, is unusually highly coloured. Every nest is wonderfully well concealed. If it contains eggs the sitting bird disappears at once in the nearest cover; if there are young, both birds come back and commence creeping and tumbling about, wings and tails spread, within three or four yards of a bystander's feet, uttering a rapid metallic "tick." For some years I tried to shoot a male bird before the nesting season, but without success, owing to the persistent way in which it keeps out of sight when singing, and have been obliged to content myself with a pair of nestlings, which, set up in a nest, make a nice little case. With a bird like this, which is often heard but seldom seen, the song is all-important for identification purposes. In this case it seems to me to be precisely like the sound made in drawing out a line from a small Trout fishing-reel the check spring of which happens to have the right pitch. During fifteen years the earliest date on which I have heard the song is April 15th, and the latest July 24th. It is sometimes to be heard in July in fields of standing wheat. —E.A. Swainson (Woodlands, Brecon).
Common Crossbill in Worcestershire.—Whilst rambling over Brake Wood, near Churchill, on April 15th last, I noticed a few Crossbills (Loxia curvirostra) among the Scotch firs, busily employed with the cones. Upon making enquiries from the keeper, he stated that he had noticed them there for the last three years, sometimes numbering upwards of fifty, though this winter not so plentiful. I could not satisfy myself that they were breeding there. The cover is only a small one, and gave me a splendid opportunity of finding their nest had they been so doing. —J. Steele-Elliott (Hillcrest, Clent).
Cirl Bunting (Emberiza cirlus) in North Cheshire.—On April 12th, when walking in some meadows about six miles from Manchester, I noticed a bird flying about a low fence close to a railway embankment. I went cautiously towards it, keeping close to the fence. The bird kept flying in and out of the gaps in the fence, often settling in the grass, and occasionally making an attempt at a song. At first the yellow on the head made me
